


Better Hit the Ground

by Tabithian



Series: Light the Path [19]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4607436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason's just minding his own business, getting ready to crack some heads open, put the fear of Red Hood into the idiots who thought they could get way with shit in his territory.</p><p>And there's good old Dick, popping up out of nowhere looking like he needs to punch things and Jason's not really in the mood to be the thing he punches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Hit the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on Tumblr. (Prompt at the bottom of the page because spoilers.)

Jason's just minding his own business, getting ready to crack some heads open, put the fear of Red Hood into the idiots who thought they could get way with shit in his territory.

And there's good old Dick, popping up out of nowhere looking like he needs to punch things and Jason's not really in the mood to be the thing he punches.

“The hell do you want?”

Dick doesn't answer at first, staring down at the warehouse Jason's been watching for the last hour waiting for the main guest to arrive to this little party.

“Whatever, just stay out of the way,” Jason says.

“Want some help?” 

Jason stops, turns to look at Dick.

He looks up at Jason with this little smile on his face, the kind that hurts.

Jason's eyes narrow, and Dick looks away.

“Fuck, just. I don't know, don't get yourself killed. I wouldn't want to have to be the one to tell that little shit.”

Dick winces.

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” Jason says. Glances down at the warehouse, just small-fry milling around trying to make themselves seem more important than they are for the moment. “What the hell happened?”

Jason doesn't really want details, Christ, no.

“What are you talking about?” Dick asks, and Jason almost buys it.

“You're a goddamn moron,” Jason sighs

Makes a mental note to avoid Tim for the time being because the little shit's going to be a pain if the two of them had a fight. 

Again.

There's been something going on between them the last little while, butting heads over the smallest thing and everyone's been staying out of it because they're not complete idiots.

When Dick and Tim get into it, they really get into it. 

Tim told him what happened when he left Gotham to look for Bruce, that fight they'd had, or. Okay, the one that involved actual physical violence.

“He.” Dick laughs, hollow, won't looks at Jason. “It's Tim.”

Jason looks at him.

“I know,” Dick says. “I know.”

Jason sighs, wonders why the hell Dick came to him, but.

They both look down when a shiny black SUV pulls up to the warehouse doors.

“Don't get killed,” Jason says, goes over the side of the roof, Dick just behind.

********

“Christ.”

“You understand why I wanted you to see this?” Barbara asks, stopping the video.

There's no audio, but reading lips isn't that hard and Jason can see the expression on their faces just fine. 

“Little shit doesn't pull his punches, does he?”

Like Jason doesn't know that from experience.

Barbara laughs, soft little huff of air. “It's not like we've ever given him reason not to.”

And.

Christ.

“Yeah.”

Doesn't explain why Barbara wanted him to see this, though. Why she asked him to come here, to watch _this._

“Why - “

“You know why,” Barbara says, and Jason has to look away.

It's been a couple of weeks, give or take, and there hasn't been so much as a peep from Tim.

Dick's taken over Jason's couch because everyone knows Tim bunks at his place on a regular basis, and when that happened Jason doesn't know.

Just knows Tim will show up after a patrol sometimes. Give Jason some bullshit excuse about his place being closer and Tim doesn't feel like traipsing all the way across town at the moment. Sometimes he'll be bleeding when he says shit like that, little smile on his face like he's not fucking up Jason's carpeting.

He's been thinking of charging the fuckers rent, they're in Jason's space so much, but it'd be a dick move now, with Dick being a mess and doing a shitty job of hiding it.

“Any sign of him?”

Barbara shakes her head, unhappy slant to her mouth. “Nothing.”

Jason shouldn't be worried, because it's not like Tim's helpless, God no.

The little shit is more than capable of looking after himself, has proved it again and again, but.

Something else he's proven again and again is that he's a goddamn idiot, just like the rest of them.

The thing that has Jason worried – God, he really is, isn't he? - is that even when Tim had gone after Bruce, there had been sightings of him. 

Reports of some new vigilante all over Europe that turned out to be Red Robin, _Tim_. A little more violent, reckless, than Robin tended to be, but there was a reason for that, wasn't there.

This time there's nothing but silence.

********

Another week goes by, and one of Barbara's contacts finds something.

********

“Jesus.”

Dick looks over at him.

“He put up a fight,” Jason says, doesn't know what else to say.

Barbara's shifty as hell contact and this piece of shit dump Tim had been operating out of doing who the hell knows what.

Dick doesn't say anything, just starts sifting through the mess.

Broken laptop with a cracked screen that's nearly torn away over by the wall. Broken furniture, curtains torn from the rod. Holes punched into the walls here and there, and indentation that looks about right for a human body that's been thrown into it. 

Shattered glass from one of the windows, papers scattered all over the room. One of Tim's fucking throwing discs half-embedded in the wall, and, oh, yeah, blood.

Nice splatters over the wall, on a corner of the dresser along with a few hairs. Smeared hand print on the wall that look like someone was leaning hard on it, sliding down a little before it just. 

Stops.

Dark spot on the carpet where it pooled before drying.

Whatever happened here, had to have gone down a while ago. Couple of weeks, maybe more. Not that long after Tim blew out of Gotham, probably.

Christ.

********

The search is on after that. All the Bats using their resources, calling in favors looking for that goddamn idiot.

For whatever reason, everyone expects Jason to keep an eye on Dick. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, which. 

Really. 

He's not a miracle worker, but he gets Dick to eat at least once every day or so. And if he has to slip sedatives into his food to get him to sleep, it's not like it's the first time someone's done that to him.

********

The worst part, Jason thinks later, is that Tim left Gotham _angry_. Some kind of fight, fallout with Dick. 

********

Bruce goes quiet, cold, a month into the search for Tim. Pulls back to Gotham while Dick runs himself ragged in his search, because he and Tim - 

They were _something_ before Tim disappeared.

Dick doesn't appreciate that one damn bit, Bruce locking himself down like this, acting like Tim's already dead, and Jason.

Jason doesn't know what he thinks anymore, is just trying to keep Dick from killing himself looking for Tim, too tired, drained to do much else. (Won't let himself think about it.)

Jason stands by and watches Dick tear into Bruce, yelling at him for giving up on Tim like this, _how could he_ , after Tim gave up so much to find Bruce when no one else even tried.

There has to be some kind of sick, twisted irony in the fact that _Jason_ has to pull Dick away from Bruce before he says something he's _really_ going to regret later. (All his words sharp, designed to hurt.)

Bruce is seemingly impassive in the face of Dick's anger, his vitriol.

But it's _Bruce_ , and things always go deeper with him than anyone realizes.

And.

Jason's done some growing up, and fuck if Tim isn't responsible for some of it, that little shit.

“Dick.”

Dick's head snaps around, and God, he's just so _angry_.

Jason shakes his head, _no_ , because this isn't helping anyone, is it?

Jason can see everything Dick's not saying in the way his face crumples for a brief moment, because Dick hadn't really believed Tim when he told him Bruce was alive, had he? Hadn't believed in him then, when Tim needed him to, and this - 

Dick clamps down on that, roiling mass of guilt and remorse, anger and who knows what else, face smoothing out into a credible poker face. Draws himself up at whatever expression is on Jason's face and stalks off for patrol, anger in every step.

Damian scurries out from whatever little pool of shadows he's been watching all of this from, taking on a role he really shouldn't have to. Making sure Dick doesn't get himself into too much trouble when it should be the other way around. 

Jason sighs, makes a mental note to do something not completely terrible for the demon brat because.

This fucking mess, and Damian caught up in it like this.

Angry at Tim for doing this to them, to Dick, and just. Just angry because this whole thing is a mess and he and Tim were just beginning to learn to tolerate one another, and now - 

Jason looks at Bruce. Smiles, tired, at seeing the cracks in that mask of his, taking no joy from it, not now. 

“He's not going to stop looking,” Jason says, doesn't know why he feels the need to when everyone knows. 

“No,” Bruce says, and under everything he's sad. “He won't.”

Because _Tim_.

And Jason - 

Bruce looks at him, something that's not quite a smile of his face because there's nothing happy about it. 

********

They never really talk about it, what they think they're doing. Leaving Gotham to look for Tim without even the smallest shred of evidence he's still alive 

Just that goddamned room and the faith Dick has in Tim being better than that. Being better than letting someone take him down in some grubby little apartment. (Like life is ever that fair.)

They end up in shitty places all over the world. Hunting down whatever tips, leads they can. Grasping at rumors, whispers in dark alleys.

Crappy motel rooms where they can, gutted buildings and cramped alleys when they can't, huddling close for warmth.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself, Dick.”

Dick grins, shadow of itself, waggles his eyebrows and says, “No promises.”

********

They get into it a time or two, looking for Tim,.

Dick throwing all the crazy shit Jason's done to the little shit in his face, angry, hurt, lost, and Jason.

He takes it at first, because Dick's right, and he _needs_ this. 

To get some of that poison out of him, and Jason can take it. 

Bruce isn't in the right place for it, and God knows the others don't need this, deserve it.

Barbara would shut down Dick hard and cold, and Steph would. God, she'd probably fucking fight him, because Tim was hers, once. Cass would just take it, to a point, and demon brat's a mess of issues at any given time, but Jason.

There's a limit, with him. 

He waits until the bastard winds down and steps up, into his space.

Looks into his eyes, says, “At least I never took Robin from him.”

Dick goes _crazy_. 

Makes a sound that barely sounds human, rage and hurt and loss and all the thing tied up in those kinds of feelings.

Dick does his best to kill him, and Jason returns the favor until they're nothing but hurting, bleeding wrecks laid out on the ground in some fucking forest somewhere in Europe following the smallest scrap of a rumor of Tim, panting for breath through split lips and cracked ribs.

“I fucked up,” Dick says, laugh a broken, hurting thing that bleeds. “I fucked up.”

Jason turns his head to look at him, feels a smile tugging at his mouth. “I didn't know you even knew that word.”

Dick stares at him for a long moment before he starts laughing, shaking with it.

After a while, Jason closes his eyes and pretends it doesn't sound like crying.

********

Jason's eyes flick to the side, sees Ra's' assassins slowly filling the room. Steps forward and places a hand on Dick's shoulder.

“Dick, come on. We're getting nowhere here.”

Dick looks at him, sharp, and then his gaze focuses on the assassins watching them.

Looks to Ra's who has that fucking smug look on his face because there was something weird going on between him and Tim that none of them could find any answers to. 

Tim clamming up whenever one of them brought it up, this. 

This _look_ on his face.

There was a thing between them that had Ra's calling Tim _Detective_ , and Dick.

Tim had gone to Ra's for help, when he was looking for Bruce, and Dick can never forget that.

“Come on, we need to go,” Jason says again.

Neither of them are in top form at the moment, haven't been for a while now. Not after all this time they've been looking for Tim.

Dick snorts, turns on his heels and walks away from Ra's, Jason breathing a sigh as he follows, careful not to leave his back to them.

********

Jason's lost track of where they are when Tim's assassin buddy, the one with the shaved head approaches them. 

Holds up a little flash drive.

“My master knows where he is.”

Jason has to rein Dick in, hand on his shoulder while the assassin looks on, unimpressed.

“Talk.”

“Your friend,” there's a bit of a smirk there, odd sort of emphasis, “made a lot of enemies when he tried to destroy the League.”

Tried, because _Ra's_ , but Tim had hurt him with that stunt he pulled. Enough for Ra's to go after the others in Gotham, try to destroy what Bruce had built over the years. (Tried, because _Tim_.)

“They wanted to pay him back for that.”

Not completely unexpected, what with the way the little shit has of making friends.

Dick makes a strangled noise in his throat, Jason and the assassin looking at him.

“All the information you need is on the drive,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

Jason sighs, steps around Dick to take the flash drive. 

Looks at the assassin.

Because Ra's and Tim and that weird thing between them, and now this.

“Why?”

She looks up at him with a crooked little smile. 

“Because.”

********

Jason does the smart thing, this time.

Sees Dick at the end of his rope, Jason not much better, and sucks it up.

“We found him.”

Barbara stares back at him.

“What?”

Jason laughs, this ragged little thing because it's been _months_.

“Tim's assassin friend showed up today, gave us a flash drive with all this information on it.”

Barbara's eyes narrow.

“We haven't laid eyes on him in person just yet, but.”

Coordinates, maps. Satellite images and -

“There were pictures, videos. Time stamps, you know the whole deal.”

Things Ra's people had recorded, _documented_ when they found Tim.

Fucking ran surveillance for days before Tim's assassin friend had gone to them with it.

 _Tim_.

Looking like hell, but still fighting. That infuriating little smirk of his as he smarted off to whoever was holding him, blood on his face, his clothes, and still smirking. 

Barbara goes still.

“Idiot's sleeping.”

Sedated, because he'd wanted to go after Tim right then. Fuck everything else, even the fact they were as likely to get all of them killed as save Tim.

Barbara snorts, looks away.

“What do you need?”

Jason closes his eyes, laughs, tired, so fucking tired. 

“Batman would be nice.”

There's a pause.

“We can't do this on our own,” Jason says, and it fucking hurts to admit, but this isn't about them, it's about Tim. 

“Understood,” Barbara says.

********

Dick comes around a little after Bruce gets there.

Stalks into the main room as Bruce is watching the last of the videos to rip into Jason for fucking stabbing with him a goddamn tranquilizer dart.

Sees Bruce and Damian and falters, and then he sees what Bruce is watching, and goes white, staggers against the couch.

Jason winces, gets up to block his view, but the damage has been done.

“You - “

“You really didn't want to see that, trust me,” Jason says, sick, crawling feeling under his skin because Dick had only seen the _end_ of the video. 

Wishes Dick hadn't seen it now, but.

There's a loud crack behind him, and when he turns sees the casing to his laptop's warped, cracked, Bruce slowly unclenching his hands.

Damian is so very quiet in his little corner of the room, head turned away from them.

Bruce looks at Dick, mouth turning down.

“Don't you dare,” Dick hisses, pushing himself upright. “Don't do this, Bruce.”

Because Dick is a mess and a liability in his current state and they all know that.

“Idiot's gotten this far,” Jason finds himself saying. Doesn't bother to wonder why he gives a damn because even he isn't that oblivious. “Might as well let him finish this.”

Bruce turns that frown on him, and Jason shrugs.

He's really not that much better than Dick right now, but.

Bruce sighs.

********

Dick tries to fight them on this, but.

No.

“You stay here, or I put you down,” Jason says, flat, cold.

Damian shifts uneasily, gaze going between Dick and Jason, Bruce standing off to the side watching this go down.

“Jason - “

“No,” Jason says. “We're going to need you two out here in case anyone gets past us.”

Doesn't ask if Dick really thinks he's up to going in after Tim right now, not when the answer is obvious.

They don't want Damian going in there, seeing this even though he's seen worse. Even though he's _Robin_ , and it's definitely too little, too late, wanting to spare him shit like this, but.

“Grayson.”

Dick looks at Damian, flash of guilt and regret on his face because he loves the little brat, and hasn't been there for him this last little bit.

“We'll get him out,” Jason promises.

Get him out, or make the fuckers who took him regret everything they've ever done, whether Bruce likes it or not.

********

It's an old production plant, cavernous rooms and rusting machinery. Bits of broken metal and rotting cardboard, dripping water from a broken pipe or one of the gaping holes in the roof, who knows. Chittering rats and other vermin from all around them, quiet skittering noises when they startle them.

They don't meet resistance until they hit the administration building attached to the main plant, tight corridors and way too damn many doors either side. Boarded up office windows and abandoned office furniture, vending machines that have gone dark.

Jason turns the corner and there's some asshole with a gun on his hip and a bored look on his face. He doesn't even properly register Jason's presence before Bruce takes him down, fast, efficient, so quiet his buddy around the corner never notices.

Goes down without a struggle when Jason gets him from behind, little sneer on his face.

“Hood.”

Jason looks up at Bruce, and slowly, slowly releases his choke hold.

Bruce looks at him for a long moment. No noise except for the pained breathing of the unconscious goon. Jason's anger, burning red and going white at the edges.

After a long moment Bruce turns and drifts off down the hallway, and Jason steps over the goon to follow.

********

It's pretty obvious from what resistance they do meet that the fucker behind this is long gone, leaving what Jason suspects are the dregs of his little organization.

They're so fucking stupid. 

...or maybe they've been her long enough they're not worried about being caught. Don't even think it's a possibility, made themselves comfortable in this little hellhole and that thought _burns_.

********

They find Tim in what has to be the manager's office.

Windows looking out over the tangle of trees that insist on being considered a forest at the back of the plant, overhead lights burning bright and merciless because.

“Christ.”

Tim's.

He's not looking so great.

Little ball of blood and pain and broken bones, smeared trail of blood where he's dragged himself to a corner, overturned desk offering meager shelter.

Bruce inhales, sharp. Creak of his gauntlets as he clenches his fists, a beat, nothing more, and then he's moving towards Tim.

Slowly, carefully.

Tim twitches when Bruce's shadow falls over him, goes _still_.

“Tim?”

So goddamn still, Jason doesn't think he's even breathing.

“Tim,” Bruce says, crouches down but makes sure to keep space between them.

Looks up at Jason.

“You little shit,” Jason says, voice going soft on him. “What the hell did you get yourself into this time?”

The noise Tim makes shouldn't be classified as anything remotely like a laugh, but when he finally uncurls, lifts his face, there's.

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” Tim says, voice a dry croak, painful sounding rasp, and the little fucker _smiles_.

********

There's some kind of silent conversation between Tim and Bruce, something that's just _theirs_ , damn freaks. Tim sighs, lifts his neck to let Bruce inject him with something that puts him out after a few minutes.

Bruce bows his head, _breathes_ , and Jason.

“Come on, up,” Jason says, gruff. “We wait around too long the idiot's going to come in after us.”

And Dick really, really doesn't need to see this fucking room.

********

Bruce carries Tim, so, so careful, Jason keeping guard. 

Darts little looks at Bruce who catches him at it once, pulls Tim closer to himself.

Jason wants to ask, but there's something on Bruce's face that won't let him, not now.

(Wants to know if this is what it was like for Bruce when Jason died.)

********

Dick's trying to talk Damian in going down after them, wheedling note in his voice that's been absent for too long.

Damian glaring at him, arms crossed over his chest and dangerously close to giving in.

“Leave the demon brat alone,” Jason says, turns to take Tim from Bruce so he can climb up to the roof.

Dick startles, little squawk, and then he sees Tim, bundled up in Bruce's cape in Jason's arms.

“Is he - ?”

“Still an annoying little shit, yeah,” Jason says, lets Dick crowd him to look down at Tim.

Dick frowns, lifts a hand to brush hair out of Tim's eyes, and hesitates when he sees the mess Tim's face has become.

Dark bruising, little cuts here and there, and there isn't a place to touch that won't bring pain.

“He's okay, Dick,” Jason says, feels something like relief at that. “He's okay.”

********

It's not that hard to slip away when they get Tim back to Gotham with the was everyone's fussing over him.

Jason watches for a bit, makes sure Tim's in good hands, and goes to find some heads to bust, anger churning inside him with a healthy dose of helplessness and everything that's been building up ever since Tim went missing.

Cass finds him, forces him up to the roof of a warehouse when he's curb stomping some poor muggers who happened to cross his path.

Stares at him for a long moment before dropping into a fighting stance, head cocked to the side, and Jason.

Jason laughs, feels some of the ugliness inside him slowly start to uncurl, claws coming out.

“If you insist,” he says, and sketches a little bow, because this, Cass.

Jason doesn't have to hold himself back with her. Doesn't have to take things like exhaustion and guilt and anger into account with her. Can go all-out, safe in the knowledge she can drop his ass easy as breathing, and it's.

It's a fucking relief, something breaking open inside him because this.

He fucking needs this, and he's so lucky Cass understands.

Cass smirks, and Jason can see it in her eyes that she needs this just as much, and that's.

It's good.

********

Jason waits until they have Tim settled at the manor before he drops by to check on him.

Had him looked over and found that none of his injuries are life-threatening, meant to cause pain more than anything else, make him _hurt_. 

The broken bones are.

“I tried to escape, a few times” Tim says, brittle little smile. “Didn't quite work out.”

“No shit,” Jason says, looks to where Dick's passed out in the chair beside Tim's bed, chin resting on his arms, hair brushing Tim's leg.

Tim seems okay, but.

“Bruce bought the place,” Jason says, watches Tim's face. 

Such a good poker face, this little shit.

“Oh.”

Jason rolls his eyes, leans in. 

“Want to come with me to see it when you're out of here? You and me and a little touch of arson?”

Tim blinks, looks up at Jason with wide eyes.

“Bruce - “

“Why the hell do you think he bought it, Tim?"

Oh, sure, Bruce is over there right now tearing the place apart for clues, anything to find out who did this, but afterward...

“I.”

Tim lowers his gaze. 

Frowns at his hands, fingers in splints. Swollen, ugly shade of purple turning to green and yellow.

“Don't think about it too hard,” Jason says, not unkindly. “I'll put you down as a maybe.”

Tim huffs out a laugh, peers up at Jason. 

“What happened to your face?”

Jason grins, prods a loose tooth with his tongue before answering.

“Cass.”

********

A few weeks later, and Tim makes a break for it.

********

Jason hears about it while he's on patrol, can't help but laugh when Barbara tells him what happened.

“They're smothering the little shit.”

“It's how they show their worry,” Barbara says, voice wry. “I just thought you should know you have a house guest.”

Of course he does.

********

Dick's on the roof of the building across the way from Jason's apartment, looking miserable and a little annoyed at himself for being miserable.

“You're a goddamned moron,” Jason says.

Dick shrugs, bites his lip. 

“Look, idiot,” Jason says, shoves Dick's shoulder. “You know how he is.”

Tim's a really fucking weird kid, all fucked up inside. Worse than the rest of them in some ways.

Things like this, Dick and Bruce (in his own way) being smothering mother hens was bound to have him running after a while, freaked the hell out by all this _concern_.

“Give him some space.”

Dick sighs, because he knows this already.

“I know, just.”

“Go find Cass, get her to kick you around for a bit. It helps.”

********

Tim staying with him is awkward at first. 

Tim's _skittish_ , and Jason has to readjust.

Has to learn how to move around Tim now, and it's so fucking frustrating, because sometimes he'll forget. Won't be looking at Tim, fading bruises and healing cuts and will say something or move too fast and when he does look - 

Tim tries to hide it, shove it down where no one can see, but even he's not that good.

********

“He trusts you, Jason,” Bruce says, tips his head. “Tim's always believed in you.”

Jason looks down.

“Yeah, and look how I repaid him for that.”

How many times has he tried to kill the little shit now? And he _trusts_ Jason? Looks at him like he's safe?

_Christ._

Bruce sighs, runs a hand through his hair.

“He went to you,” Bruce says, and there's something.

Unhappy, maybe, sad, that Tim hadn't felt he could stay at the manor.

“Think about what that means.”

********

It's not easy, having Tim stay with him.

There are nights Jason will wake up to Tim on his fire escape curled into a little ball, pale and silent and -

“I can almost remember,” Tim says taps his temple, when he looks at Jason. “I can almost remember what they did to me.”

Nightmares or memories, they're enough to make Tim like this, quiet little ghost.

Have him shying away form touch, an open wound.

Because they'd had Tim for months, and they hadn't started with the beatings until the last little bit. Right before they found him.

Who the fuck knows what they did before that?

********

Tim crawls into Jason's bed one night, confused little frown on his face even as he's rearranging Jason the way he wants. Little winces and hitching breath when he aggravates his injuries, but he's so damned determined Jason doesn't say anything, just lets him do what he wants to.

Because this.

It's Tim seeking comfort and obviously not knowing how to ask for it, shoulders hunched like he's waiting for Jason to call him on it. Kick Tim's ass out of his bed, maybe tell him not to come back at all, who the fuck knows with him?

“Christ, why are your feet so damn cold?” Jason asks, when Tim tangles his legs with Jason's, bare feet brushing against Jason's calf. 

Tim snorts, presses his face against Jason's chest. “Shut up.”

********

After a while, Dick starts coming around. Stops lurking on the roof across the way and eases himself into this new routine they've found for themselves.

Teases Tim gently, so, so careful. Bickers with Jason, both of them orbiting around Tim, who.

He's not the same person he was before, gone even quieter, like Jason even thought that was possible. 

Tim holds himself like a bird about to take flight, wary, watchful.

But.

He's getting better.

******** 

One night, Tim wakes from a dead sleep with a scream caught in his throat, elbow catching Jason in the side of his head, stunning him.

When he can see straight, Tim's hovering by the side of the bed, hands reaching out to him, this horrified look on his face and Jason.

“Goddammit,” Jason mutters, slowly, carefully goes Tim and puts his arms around him, pulls him close.

Tim drops his head to Jason's shoulder and just _breathes_.

“You want to talk about it?”

Tim shakes his head, and. 

All right, okay.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Tim lifts his head. Searches Jason's face for a long moment before his hands come up to frame it, and he - 

Holy shit, he leans in, and Jason -

“Tim,” Jason says, voice strained.

Tim freezes, like he's just realized what he's doing, and fucking _bolts_.

Runs out of the room too fast for Jason to catch him even if his brain was in perfect working order because Tim almost fucking kissed him.

 _Him_.

Which is.

It's all kinds of fucked up because Tim was Dick's before he was grabbed, and Dick was Tim's, and Jason.

Fuck, _Jason_. 

********

Dick sounds worried, when he picks up.

“Is he with you?” Jason asks, pacing like that's going to help.

“Jason, what?”

“Tim,” Jason grits out. “Is he with you?”

There's a quiet murmur on Dick's end he can't quite make out, and he sags, relieved, because that's _Tim_.

“What happened?” Dick asks.

Jason sighs, closes his eyes.

“A mistake,” he says, because what else could it be? “Just. Don't worry about it, it won't happen again.”

“Jason?”

Jason hangs up, turns the fucking phone off and spends the rest of the night staring at the ceiling in his bedroom because how fucking stupid is he, anyway?

********

Tim comes back a week later, won't meet Jason's eyes, won't _talk_ but.

He looks like he's working up the nerve to apologize, make amends, and Jason.

Tosses a flash drive at him, says, “Take a look at what's on that and tell me what you think.”

Tim blinks.

Jason can do this, he can.

Because Tim was never his, was he? And that's probably for the best because Dick, at least, hasn't tried to kill him.

********

Dick, the fucker, never asks what happened.

Acts like everything's fine, that Tim doesn't keep a certain amount of space between them now, and stays on the couch whenever he stays at Jason's apartment.

Just watches them, this odd little frown between his eyes.

********

It's been over a year, and Tim's.

He seems to be regaining the little lost pieces of himself when Jason opens his eyes to Tim straddling him, one of Jason's knives at his own throat, another tucked at his waistband. 

Light from the window falls across his face, makes him seem alien, strange.

“Hey, Tim,” Jason says, quiet, soft, because Tim's had nightmares before. 

Nothing like this, but.

“You okay?”

Tim blinks, cants his head, like a bird. The the knife presses in a little deeper, sharp pain and something hot, wet, on Jason's neck.

“You in there, Replacement?”

Because the lights are on but no one's home, a terrifying sort of blankness in Tim's eyes.

Tim's eyes narrow, hand holding the knife trembling before he regains control, lip pulling up over his teeth in a soundless snarl.

“Tim?”

And there's Dick, crouched in the open window, no doubt alerted by Barbara about this little shitshow. 

Tim's head snaps up, comes around to look at Dick, but he's not really looking at him, that much is obvious.

His hand slips with the movement, knife biting deeper into Jason's neck, drawing pained noise from him. 

“Jay?”

“Peachy keen,” Jason says, and now Tim's looking between them, forehead furrowed.

He hunches in on himself, knife steady at Jason's neck once more.

Dick comes fully into the room, slow, easy. Broadcasting his movements.

Tim's eyes narrow, flicking from Dick to Jason to the window, and Jason can feel him tense, ready to move.

Jason looks at Dick, who looks.

“Tim,” Dick says, and his voice is one step away from breaking. “Come on, Timmy, _please_.”

Tim snarls, low, guttural, and his hand flashes out. Slams into Jason's face before he's lunging off the bed, going low and fast, slashing out at Dick to gain him room, open a path.

But this is Dick, and they lost Tim for too damn long last time. 

The stupid bastard takes the hit, Tim making a high keening noise as he opens up a long line on the arm Dick's using to block. Another on his chest as Tim tries to drive him away.

“Tim, come on, Timmy, I know you're in there,” Dick says, soft, like he's talking to a wild animal, even when Tim gets pat his guard, knife flashing.

A desperate snarl from Tim, because Dick isn't moving, giving ground.

Tim goes all out, launches himself at Dick, ball of desperation and anger and Dick goes down under the momentum, cries out as Tim does _something_ , and Tim's scrambling up and over him and out the window.

Jason rolls off the bed, blood flowing freely from his nose, and makes his way to Dick who's curled up around the knife sticking out of his side. Trying to pull the fucking thing out before Jason grabs his hands.

“Christ, Dick.”

“We need to find him,” Dick says, voice thick with pain. “Jay, we need to find him.”

********

Steph and Cass arrive a few minutes later, Steph dragging a protesting Dick back to the Batcave for medical attention while Jason and Cass look for Tim.

Bruce joins them not too long after, Damian at his side and they make the decision to split up, cover more ground.

********

Tim drops down on him somewhere by the waterfront.

Fast, vicious, looking to take Jason down bloody.

Jason laughs, blocks Tim's attacks even though it costs. 

“Christ, who taught you how to fight?” Jason taunts, aims a hit at Tim's ribs because they're just healed, still tender and Jason plays dirty.

Tim twists away in time to make it a glancing blow, crouches low like some kind of cat.

“Come on, Replacement, give me a fucking challenge!”

This is such a fucking terrible idea.

Tim's trying to kill the hell out of him. Jason's trying to keep the little shit alive because he had to go and give a damn.

But Barbara's watching, listening in, and Bruce and the others are out there, are on their way here, and all Jason has to do is stall until then. 

Easy.

And then Tim comes up at him like a bullet from a gun. Hits hard, fast, and then Jason's just bleeding, bleeding, _bleeding_.

Tim's kneeling over him, knife raised.

“Hey, Tim,” Jason says, so damn tired, hurting. “You look like hell.”

Tim's eyes are red, the hand holding the knife is shaking and -

“ _Jason_.”

Jason smiles, says, “You're such a shitty fighter, Tim.”

Tim laughs, this broken little thing, but the knife's still raised, ready to come down and Tim can't seem to make himself stop.

This is just.

God, this is just fucking perfect, isn't it?

********

“Tim.”

Tim turns his head to look at Bruce, which.

Hey, Jason did it, go him.

“Bruce, I can't,” Tim says, voice breaking. “I _can't_.”

Bruce moves slow, careful.

“It's okay,” Bruce soothes, reaches out to wrap his fingers around Tim's wrist. 

Jason watches as he slowly pries the knife from Tim's hand, Tim dragging in air like he's dying from it, jaw clenched.

“It's okay,” Bruce says again, like it really will be. 

Bruce hands the knife off to Steph standing behind him, pulls Tim to him, Cass sliding in to check on Jason.

She doesn't look worried, which is nice. 

Means he'll probably survive this.

“Stupid,” Cass says, flicks his forehead, angry at him. “ _Stupid._

Probably. 

********

“Is he going to be alright?”

Jason looks at Steph, running her fingers through Tim's hair. 

At Tim, strapped down to one of the medial beds in the Batcave hooked up to just about all the damn machines they have, Bruce a dark, angry shadow at the Batcomputer going over the test results.

Dick, freshly bandaged and hunched over in a chair by Tim's bedside. (Jason has a few bandages of his own, stitches and what are going to be some pretty impressive scars down the road.)

“It's Tim,” Dick says, and doesn't look at anyone. “Of course he will.”

Jason looks away, throat tight, and catches Cass' eye from where she's watching all of them, standing guard.

She dips her head, acknowledgment, and it's so damn easy for Jason to slip away. 

Go looking for some goddamn answers.

********

The production plant looks even worse now, weather and the environment, local vandals, wearing it away bit by bit.

Not fast enough for Jason's liking, but Tim hadn't been up to making the trip here before, and now - 

“I've been looking for you.”

Jason turns, sees Tim's assassin.

She's angry, fresh bandages on her face, small cut over her eye.

“What the hell happened to you?”

She looks Jason over, mouth pulling up into a mean little smile. “I could ask you the same, but I think I know the answer.”

Jason _looks_ at her.

“Here,” she snaps, tosses an other flash drive at him, and fucking _bows_. “My master offers his apologies.”

What.

“There was.”

A sneer of disgust.

When she speaks, it sounds like she's quoting someone, and from the wording, there's little doubt a to who she's quoting.

“The person responsible for Red Robin's abduction wished for him to suffer, twisted his mind so he would be the weapon that ended the lives of his own family.”

And that.

 _Fuck_.

A wry smile.

“My master was not...pleased with these turn of events.”

Neither is Jason, Dick is laid up in the Batcave, Tim's fucking sedated and strapped to a goddamned medical bed and everyone is this close to snapping.

“Why?”

A careless little shrug. “My master has plans for him.”

That's not reassuring. (Is actually fucking terrifying.)

“This is for you,” the assassin says, and she looks. 

Tired? Drained, maybe, as she hands him another flash drive. 

“I wouldn't show this one to Batman, or _him_ , if I were you. My master was not...gentle.”

********

Bruce just looks at him when Jason goes back to Gotham, which means Barbara probably ratted him out.

But.

“Good news is, we don't have to worry about the fucker who did this anymore,” Jason says, tries for a cocky little grin.

They're going to draw conclusions anyway, might as well have fun with it while he can.

Dick's watching him too, something unreadable on his face, and Jason.

“This should help,” Jason says, hands Bruce the flash drive with everything Bruce needs to know about on it.

Looks at Dick.

“The hell are you staring at, Dick?”

Dick snorts, mumbles something that sounds like, “Your dumb face.”

Because he's _five_.

“You're an asshole.”

Dick smiles, this little thing that's trying so damn hard. “Takes one to know one.”

And Jason.

“Christ, I don't even know why I bother.”

The second flash drive is heavy in his jacket pocket, drags on him but it's a weight he's fucking glad to carry because - 

Because that fucker came after Tim, _hurt_ him, them, and Jason.

If Ra's hadn't killed the bastard, God knows Jason would have.

********

Tim.

Jesus, he's had a rough year, and Jason has to laugh at that because it's such an understatement it's not even funny.

But.

This is Tim, who.

Maybe he doesn't bounce back from the shit that happens to him, but he never lets it keep him down for long. 

Bruce quietly arranges for Tim to see someone about this, untangle all the shit they did to him to turn him against them the way they had.

Some combination of drugs, torture, and psychological conditioning, because they'd had months to work on Tim, hadn't they. The whole sickening process so helpfully recorded the fucker who'd done all this and saved on the flash drive by Tim's assassin.

This.

The road back from that is going to be long, and so fucking painful, but.

Dick's right there with him all the way, Barbara, Steph, and Cass. Even the little demon brat are on the sidelines stepping in when needed. Bruce is there, quiet rock, Alfred the steady foundation for all of them, and Jason.

Fuck, he doesn't know what he is. 

Just knows when he goes back to his apartment Tim's shit is all over the place, and so is Dick's.

Clothes and electronic equipment, bits and pieces from their various suits in stages of repair or just sitting out.

DVDs, old CDs. 

Books, magazines because Dick loves to read the goddamn Cosmo articles and sex tips to them. Force them to take the quizzes.

Little pieces of their lives mixed in with his and Jason never fucking noticed how deep he was in.

********

Dick shows up every so often, drags Jason out on patrol with him, forces him to watch horrible movies with him and bullies Jason into eating, which, _Christ_ , the irony is killing him.

“I know, right?” Dick asks, steals one of Jason's fries, waits until Jason's taken a bite of his chili dog. “I mean, how awful would it be if there were, oh, I don't know, sedatives in this?”

 _Because_.

“You're such an asshole.”

Dick shrugs, steals another fry.

********

Steph and Cass take turns pouncing on Jason while he's out on patrol, apparently for the hell of it, dragging the little demon brat into it.

Until Cass has him pinned on some roof, Steph laughing her damn head off a little ways away, Damian glaring at him, and Cass says, “You suck.”

“What?”

“You let Tim hurt you.”

The hell he did.

Steph leans over him.

“Jay,” she says, smirks at the look he gives her. “Tim wasn't firing on all cylinders, and he took you down like some punk. Cass is right.”

“Fuck you, Blondie.”

Cass flicks his forehead, and she was taking it easy on him the last time because this one fucking hurts.

“Show some respect.”

Jason snorts, feels a smile start at the corners of his mouth.

Says, because he's an idiot like that, “Make me.”

********

Barbara sends him stills, short videos of Tim, and a few of Dick, because Jason.

He's so fucking stupid.

Jason stays away from the manor, Tim, and tries to avoid Dick, but the fucker won't let him, and Barbara.

_“You're being stupid about this.”_

Jason sighs, looks up at where the stars should be, but this is Gotham and the only time they really shine down on this cesspool of a city is when some fucker is up to something. Takes the power grids down leaving them to scramble around in the dark, and just.

“Sorry, you're breaking up,” Jason says, pulls his earpiece out and pitches it over the side of the roof, like that's going to stop her.

********

Bruce is staring at him.

Bruce is staring at him, and Jason is trying not to let it bother him, but.

They're in his apartment and Jason doesn't remember letting Bruce inside, which means the bastard came in through the windows, and just.

“What?”

The corner of Bruce's mouth twitches.

“Barbara wanted me to give you this,” Bruce says, and holds out a little box.

“Why Bruce, this is so sudden.”

Bruce sighs, flips the box's lid open to reveal a nice new earpiece.

“She mentioned technical difficulties.”

Jason feigns surprise. “I don't know what she's talking about.”

“Of course you don't,” Bruce says, closes the box and presses it into Jason's hand.

Frowns, clears his throat.

“It occurs to me I didn't...thank you, for everything you did.”

Jason.

“For Dick, and Tim,” Bruce continues, looks up to meet Jason's eyes, and.

He has to know about that damn flash drive, the one Jason has locked away.

“Thank you, Jason,” Bruce says, sincere, and Jason.

“Jesus Christ, knock it off you asshole,” Jason says, looks away. “Someone had to do it.”

********

Jason wishes Ra's hadn't _taken care of_ the fucker for them, like some kind of present. Wishes he'd left the guy for them to deal with.

For _Jason_ to deal with, because he knows even after all this Dick and the others wouldn't have been able to do what needed to be done.

What _had_ to be done. 

And that way, at least, Tim wouldn't have to feel some kind of fucked up gratitude to Ra's for giving him that messed up peace of mind. 

********

Tim's sitting on his couch when Jason comes in from patrol, Dick pushing at him to get him through the window.

“Hey, Jason,” Tim says, tentative little smile on his face.

“Tim - “

Jason scowls, whips around to glare at Dick who won't fucking _stop_. “Oh my God, what are you, five?”

Dick grins up at him, _pushes_. “You're in the way.”

Behind him, Tim laughs, quiet.

Dick leans around him, delight in his voice. “Tim!”

And.

Right.

Like Dick didn't know the little shit would be here.

Jason sighs, steps aside to let Dick move past him.

Watches him go up to Tim, reach out to ruffle his hair before settling in beside him.

It's all so, so careful because Tim remembers what he did. 

Or, really, what that fucker made him do, and it's.

It's a fucking struggle for him to trust himself around them, that much has been clear from what Barbara sends him, the things the others tell him.

“What brings you to my humble abode?” Jason asks, sits on the edge of the coffee table Dick had scrounged from somewhere.

Tim frowns, looks at Dick who makes encouraging eyebrow gestures at him, what the hell?

“I,” Tim hesitates, flexes his fingers in an unconscious manner because they're still stiff, bother him some days. “It feels like you've been avoiding me.”

Jason.

It's not a flinch, not quite, but he knows Tim and Dick both see it.

Tim sighs, weary, resigned. “If it's because,” Tim gestures at Jason's neck, his side. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Jason, I tried to stop, but - “

“Shut up,” Jason snaps, voice going low, angry. “Shut the fuck up right now.”

Tim flinches, _hard_ , pulls into himself.

Dick turns his head to look at Jason, slow, dangerous, but he holds his peace.

Jason sighs, runs a hand over his face.

“That wasn't you, Tim,” he says, waits for the little shit to look up at him. “It was what that fucker did to you, because I know, I fucking _know_ you would never go after one of us like that.”

No matter how angry he might get, Tim wouldn't do something like that.

Not to Jason, and sure as hell not to _Dick_.

“And anyway,” Jason says, raises his hand to touch the scar at Tim's neck. “Not like I didn't deserve it after everything I've done to you.”

Tim stares at him.

“I think,” Dick says, sliding a darkly amused look at Jason. “What he's trying to say is it wasn't your fault, Tim. ”

A beat, and Dick's grinning, “And he has a miraculous talent of putting his foot in his mouth.”

“Shut it, asshole.”

Tim put his hand over Jason's, _looks_ at him, and this.

Jason tries to pull his hand free but Tim won't let him, and when Jason looks at Dick, the fucker's laughing at him.

“Tim - “

“You.” Tim frowns, pulls Jason's hand down and wraps both of his hands around it, rubs his thumbs lightly over the scars there. “I.”

“What Tim's trying to say,” Dick says, taking pity on him when Tim sends him a beseeching look. “Is you're an idiot, Jay.”

No shit.

“Look who's talking.”

Dick snorts, leans forward and curls his own hand around their, gives Jason a _look_.

The hell? 

This.

No. 

Jason doesn't. 

He's not that lucky.

“So damn stupid,” Dick murmurs, slides his hand up to Jason's forearm and yanks him forward.

Tim finally letting for go of Jason's hand and shifting to make room for him. 

“There were signals, Jay. All over the place, but you kept acting like you didn't see them,” Dick says, amused.

Jason's holding himself so, so still, even as Dick wraps around him like some fucking octopus, Tim cautiously leaning against him from the other side.

“What?”

“We – I thought you didn't.”

Tim huffs, irritated with himself for not being able to get the words out, but it's not like Jason can blame him, because.

“Barbara told me she was sending you updates, reports on me,” Tim says, quiet, too damn quiet. “Even though you never came by the manor, you asked her to send them to you.”

Technically, Jason had only asked her that first time, everything else afterward is all on her.

“Jay.”

Jason sighs, tips his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes because this -

It's one of those too good to be true things, the kind that fucks you over just when you think it's safe, _you're_ safe.

And.

It'll hurt, so fucking bad if it goes wrong on him, because these two goddamn idiots - 

“Our stuff is here,” Tim says, gestures at the little stack of DVDs by the television, all the clutter these assholes have brought into Jason's apartment, his life. “Our stuff has _been_ here.”

For a while now, just starting to creep in before Tim was taken, and.

“You let us _decorate_ ,” Dick says, bumps the coffee table with his foot. 

“Why did you go with Dick to look for me?” Tim asks, and that's.

It's playing _dirty_ , which is Tim all over, isn't it.

Little _shit_.

“You know why,” Jason says, and his eyes snap open because goddamn _Barbara_ all those months ago, fuck, over a year, and.

“I'm not going to win, am I?”

Because Tim and that brain of his, Dick and his. Fuck, his everything, and Jason.

“I don't know,” Dick says, leans around him to smirk at Tim. “Tim and I here are considered to be great catches, the tabloids say so.”

The tabloids are nothing but lying liars who lie, but.

Every once in a blue moon they almost hit on the truth.

Almost.

“God, you're such an insufferable bastard.”

Tim laughs, curling in against him, and Jason relaxes. Rests his chin on the top of his head. 

“Tell me about it,” Tim says.

Dick sighs, greatly put upon. “No ganging up on me, guys, that's totally not fair.”

Jason laughs.

“What the hell were you expecting, Dick?”

Because really, what the hell was he expecting?

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked for one of the Batkids being abducted for an extended period of time and when the family gets them back it turns out they're a sleeper agent, so. *hands*


End file.
